


He Would Have Preferred The Archdemon

by ChromeEdwardian



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Dream Sex, F/M, Voyeurism, Wet Dream
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-15
Updated: 2015-07-15
Packaged: 2018-04-09 10:53:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4345742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChromeEdwardian/pseuds/ChromeEdwardian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alistair would very much like to dream of the Warden without Loghain coming in and ruining the whole thing. Is that too much to ask?</p>
            </blockquote>





	He Would Have Preferred The Archdemon

Alistair was a Grey Warden. He was used to nightmares. It had been nearly a year of them now, and he was getting pretty good at blocking them out. But he told himself, as he sat awake in his tent, that those had all been the same nightmare. This one had been different. 

At first, it didn't seem that bad. He was in a dark room, and there was a circle of light from the fireplace. Tinuviel was there in his dream, and he liked Tinuviel. Liked her more than he had ever liked a girl. 

But then the dream quickly spoiled because who should show up, but Teyrn Loghain? Also known as the person Alistair hated the very most at this point in time. The teyrn was sneaking up behind her, and Alistair, instinctively knowing he was invisible, could say nothing to warn her. He braced himself for the glare of the blade in the firelight and the blood draining from her body. 

"Thank you for waiting," Loghain said. He was armorless and unarmed.

Tinuviel turned from the fire, and maybe it was the shadows, but it looked like she smiled. "Of course. Did everything go as planned?"

Loghain seated himself in one of the large chairs before the fire. "Not exactly, but the results were favorable enough that I can work with them."

Alistair watched in gradual horror as Tinuviel knelt at his feet, pulling off the leather boots and rubbing Loghain's feet through his stockings. The man's head fell to the side as he visibly untensed. 

"Poor Loghain," Tinuviel cooed. Her delicate fingers pushed into the soles of his feet. She'd done that once for Alistair and the rest of their small party after a long day of hiking up difficult terrain. He knew exactly how a foot rub like that made men feel. Even Sten hadn't been completely unmoved.

"Come up here," said Loghain. 

She obeyed immediately, hiking up her robes enough to sit on his lap, knees hugging his thighs. His hands, which looked much older than the rest of him, cupped her arse and pulled her closer. Alistair couldn't see her face. She wasn't enjoying this, was she? Her hands landed on either side of Loghain's face and she lowered her mouth onto his. 

Alistair's stomach was boiling. 

"Take those robes off, Warden Surana," Loghain said, voice rumbling low in his chest. "I want to see what I missed at Ostagar."

He couldn't see what Loghain had done, but suddenly Tinuviel let out a long moan. Maker, if only he knew how he could get that sound out of her some day. His head filled with disgust with himself for becoming aroused by this display. The cadaverous Loghain placing his treacherous hands on the girl Alistair adored. Tinuviel acting like she wanted ravishing by the man who wanted her dead. And yet, he watched on. 

Tinuviel slowly pulled her robes up over her head, leaving her in a sheer linen shift. She took Loghain's hands and placed them on her breasts as she rolled her hips over what must have been Loghain's erection. 

"Are you going to fuck me, Loghain?" she asked. 

In answer, his fingers grabbed the edge of her shift and tore it down the front. He threw the remains to the floor and kissed her violently. His hands seemed to be everywhere on her, pinching and petting, and then Tinuviel broke away and began kissing down his neck until she got to the ties of his shirt. In no time at all, Loghain's chest was bare, and Tinuviel was tonguing one of his nipples while she unlaced his breeches. 

Alistair thought he might be sick. Tinuviel wrapped her arms tightly around Loghain's neck and lifted herself up. For a brief instant, Alistair caught sight of Loghain's cock in its nest of dark hair before it disappeared inside her. Tinuviel's inhalation sounded like laughter, and the smile on her face only widened as she began to rock. Alistair ripped his eyes away from Tinuviel's face and let it drift to her ass, for at least there, he didn't have to see Loghain quite so explicitly. It was thrust out and glowing in the firelight, minor muscles twitching as she worked Loghain's cock. He looked back at her face. She had taken two of Loghain's fingers in her mouth and began sucking. 

And the sounds she was making. Soft whimpers, wet popping noises as they devoured each other, the slick rhythm of their fucking. Loghain was growling in her ear, panting as he pulled his hand from her mouth and dug his fingers into her hips. 

"Bite me," Tinuviel said, breathlessly, and he obliged, parting his lips and closing his teeth on her throat. 

By now, Alistair was trying to wake up, but part of him wanted to stay and see how this ended. Some perverse part of him that enjoyed this. Or some other part of him that enjoyed seeing Tinuviel enjoying herself.

She had stopped rocking, and now Loghain was doing most of the work, gracelessly pounding into her, and her cries were becoming more frequent and more desperate, and finally she ground into him and began her climax. She clung to him, riding it out, and he slapped her arse lightly before he too, came. 

Tinuviel was still smiling, breasts rising and falling prettily as she caught her breath. "How handsome you are like this."

"I'm not completely heartless, my dear."

And then there was a bed. Loghain lifted her into his arms, slid his breeches all the way off and carried her over. Alistair could see the semen dripping down Tinuviel's slim legs, and just as Loghain guided her onto all fours and was about to mount her from behind, Alistair woke up.

He wanted to scream. He wanted his slight hard-on to go away. But mostly, he was overwhelmingly thankful that it hadn't been real. He pulled his blanket around his shoulders and went out to the fire to get some leftovers from dinner. Wynne was sitting nearby, humming under her breath, a book balanced on her lap. 

They were far, far away from Denerim still. There was nothing to worry about on that front, at least.


End file.
